


Pack of Orphans

by ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), Ravenous (1999), Stargate Universe, The Full Monty (1997), The Tournament (2009)
Genre: Anyelle, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-04
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-21 14:42:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7391329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers/pseuds/ShakespeareanHoneyBadgers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Orphan Black AU. Gary Schofield's life changes when he witnesses a man who looks exactly like him commit suicide and decides to don his identity. He is soon drawn into a vast network with science and the supernatural competing against each other for answers to a decades old experiment.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Genesis 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaz meets Danny, Begbie, and Belle. We're introduced to one antagonist.

It had been one hell of a Friday, Gaz reflected as he studied his new appearance in the mirror, mourning the hideous haircut stealing someone else’s identity called for. He was no larger than Danny but the red suit was tight on him, and to make things worse it made him look like a class-A certified wanker.

But who was he to complain? Despite outgrown clothes the bastard that jumped in front of a train was fucking loaded…and looked exactly like him.

Thinking about that moment on the platform made Gaz queasy; he’d been on the phone with Mandy arguing about the custody arrangement yet again when some bloke had bumped into him.

“Watch it,” he hissed.

The man had twisted around and Gaz found himself staring into his own eyes, the same sharp-featured face. The haircut was piss-ugly, but it was his natural color. Same height, same slender frame… With a better fashion sense the man could’ve been his twin.

His doppleganger’s face contorted into a snarl, “NOT ANOTHER FUCKING ONE!” He shrieked.

“Gary, who is that?” Mandy asked, as if he were still paying attention to her.

The stranger bobbed from one foot to the other, unable to make up his mind whether he was or wasn’t going to move closer to Gaz, “You need to get the fuck out of here, out of the country but especially out of fucking here! He’s after us, after all of us, got a wanking bloodhound hunting us down-”

He gave a glance behind Gaz and his movements stilled for a few seconds, “…they’re not going to take me,” he murmured, “No. Fucking. Way.”

Gaz barely had time to process before the man was emptying his pockets; keys, phone, wallet, all thrown down. And then he ran.

The door opening and closing brought Gaz back to the present, which was good because he was about to blow chunks at the memory of Danny’s last moments.

“You owe me so much!” A familiar voice snapped from the penthouse living room, “I’m never going to be able to look at ground beef ever again…”

He stepped out of the bathroom to find Lace eyeing the place like the con woman she was. Lacey French had been Gaz’s friend for years; if it hadn’t been for her he would’ve never survived his divorce or losing custody of Nathan. Even if she spent the whole time rolling her eyes she had always been there for his various schemes, so of course she had been the first one he called.

“Get off my fucking couch, you bitch!” He barked, doing his best impression of the recently deceased.

Lacey jumped and turned, then burst out laughing, “Oh my god, Gaz!”

“The fuck is wrong with you?” He continued, getting for a feel of the way Danny would move, constantly, with his hands gesticulating wildly. The way he sounded, like he was constipated but trying desperately not to be, “The fuck are _you_ doing in _my_ house? I don’t recall ordering a hooker and I _would_ be aware if I _had_ ordered one!”

“You’re kidding me!” Lacey gasped, her ridiculous heels kicking as she tried to breathe, “He doesn’t actually sound and look like that, does he?!”

“I’ll let you watch the tapes yourself,” he said, moving around the couch to sit at the opposite end, “And the voicemail messages… The man was certifiable.”

“No wonder he offed himself,” she mused.

Something cold moved through his chest at her words. Clear as a photograph he could see Danny leaping off the platform, the poor conductor having no time to even hit the brakes. He did puke a little in his mouth but it seemed like everyone around him reacted more than he did. In the midst of all the confusion he remembered bending down, casually picking up what the man had left behind. It felt like…an offering, almost. Clues to fit in between “he’s after us” and “wanking bloodhound”.

He opened the wallet, seeing more cash than anyone should have on their person and an expired driver’s license glaring up at him.

Daniel Edward Devine.

“You alright?”

Lacey had recovered while he had been busy and was sitting up, watching him intently. Gaz forced a smile, “Yeah.”

She frowned, “Can’t imagine watching someone that looks like you die…” If it had been anyone else Gaz would have told them off. Instead, he was just honest.

“It was…ominous.”

Silence stretched out between them for a beat before Lacey rested a hand on his shoulder, “I identified the body as yours… Though I could’ve said it was anyone and no one would be the wiser until the tests came back.”

“Thanks Lace.”

“…but the tests _will_ come back, and even if he looks like you he won’t have the same DNA.”

Gaz leaned back against the sofa, “By then Nate and I will be long gone.”

“A life on the run; what every child dreams of,” she drawled.

Before he could come up with something to get back at her with his phone, or rather Danny’s, started to ring.

“You going to answer it?” Lacey wondered.

“Nope,” Gaz decided.

He pretty much tried to ignore the messages Danny was getting, but of course that wasn’t practical if he wanted enough cash for the three of them to live comfortably for an indefinite amount of time. Even his confirmed death wouldn’t keep Mandy from suspecting him if Nate suddenly vanished, so they’d have to keep quiet for awhile.

God… Hopefully he could get to Nate before Mandy told him he was dead.

He learned that he was technically an entrepreneur and owner of…the Parrot Club… But anyone reading between the lines would know he was a loan shark. And apparently a very successful one. A week or two of playing the part should be enough…but he wasn’t sure he had that long.

Weirdly enough he was good at this impersonating thing; none of his employees or clients were the wiser about someone else slipping into their bosses’ too-tight shoes. He kept waiting to be caught, for that awful “ah ha!” moment, and maybe that anticipation was the reason the Glaswegian came in.

He was going through Danny’s phone, erasing message after message from unlisted numbers asking where he was and when they were meeting again. They called too and didn’t leave voicemail messages, so Gaz figured it wasn’t that big of a deal.

It had been a slow night; tired of yelling at people to give him money, he was enjoying a fag outside. He exhaled the smoke and stared out at the vacant lot. He’d miss the town…and the country. He wasn’t sure where’d they would piss off to yet…maybe America. Didn’t matter as long as he had Nate and Lace. He was distracted from his vague planning by a car squealing into the lot and nearly running into him. Gaz cursed and dropped his cigarette, the machine hardly stopped before a man lurched out.

“What the FOOK is wrong with ya?!” What the fuck was wrong with HIM? HE wasn’t the one who almost killed someone!

Gaz’s stomach dropped as he got a better look at him; same height, same body structure, almost all the same characteristics. He did have a mustache that would put a 70’s porn star to shame and a gleam in his eye that suggested he was a little unhinged.

“Some cunt’s picking us off and you can’t even fookin’ text me back?! I understand not talking to the scientist but ME?!”

Gaz was having trouble keeping up. His study of Danny suggested he should yell right back at him, get in his face even. But he was too dumbstruck to speak.

The man’s eyes widened, his lips curling back like a snarling dog, “You’re not Danny…”

“Of course I fucking am!”

“Where did we meet?”

Gaz glanced behind him, “Right here, of course.”

He seemed to accept the answer, and Gaz thanked God that the idea he pulled out of his arse had been right. He second-guessed himself when the man grabbed him and held a knife to his throat.

“THE FUCK DID YOU DO TO DEVINE?! DID YOU KILL HIM?! DID YOU KILL HIM YOU SICK FUCK?!”

“I didn’t do nothing to him!” Gaz squealed, “He fucking did himself in! Maybe it’s bad taste that I took his-” He went silent as the knife bit into his skin.

“Danny would NEVER kill himself… Even with everything going on. So _you’re_ a goddamn liar.” Something wet trickled down his chest; Gaz didn’t think too hard about it lest he lose whatever cool he had left, “…you’re the one killing us all off, aren’t you?”

Us all… There were more. More than him, and the loan shark, and the psycho.

Keeping with the theme of no warning, Gaz was sprayed in the face with a torrent of blood and brain.

He stumbled away as the Glaswegian swayed, then fell. Blood continued to pour from a bullet wound; clean shot, temple to temple. He gagged and searched for the source, terrified there was a bullet for him too.

A second car arrived, its headlights illuminating the scene. For a moment he feared he’d been caught with a murder he didn’t commit, but when the driver stepped out he saw her face.

“Danny!”

“Lace, no! Get back in the car!”

She didn’t listen, of course, rushing over towards the man. Her hair was down, and that coat was probably from a lover. Her hand went to her mouth and she turned to him, more wide-eyed than he’d ever seen her.

“What happened?!”

“I don’t fucking know!” He shouted, “He came at me with a knife, spouting off about me killing Danny, and suddenly he was fucking dead!”

She stared at him for far too long, and then her lips set solemnly.

“We need to go, now. Get in the car.” He didn’t need to be told twice.

He glanced up before he ducked into the passenger’s seat. His blood went cold as he saw a shadow on the roof, gun set casually aside, the glow of a cigar floating eerily. It disappeared as the shadow watched him, blowing smoke Gaz imagined. As at ease as if he were at a bar with a pint.

He was shaking as he shut the door, trying to buckle in, “How the fuck did you know, Lace?”

“I’m not Lacey,” she said as if commenting on the make of her car, “My name is Belle.”

Gaz seriously considered jumping out of the car, “What the hell is going on?”

Belle smiled sympathetically, “Unfortunately, Not-Danny, you have fallen headfirst into a rabbit hole that we have yet to reach the bottom of.”

“We?”

She grimaced, “You should wait until we get back to base. My husband Nick is better at explaining the science than I am… I usually like to have him there for new member orientation. He does a good job of explaining the basics.”

Gaz grimaced, “How many of us are there?”

“We’re still counting,” she admitted.


	2. Matthew 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaz is brought into the fold; the mystery of Lacey and Belle is explained. No one knows anything.

He couldn't stop staring at Not Lacey as they fled the scene of the crime. Put more make-up on her, change her outfit and she’d look closer to Lace than he did to Danny. But her tells were different; Lacey would be drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, not picking at the material of it.

 

“I can’t believe he’s dead.”

 

He glanced up at Belle’s face. She looked as pale as he felt, staring blankly at the road ahead as she put distance between them and the scene. Her head shook slightly.

 

“I mean, we just saw him this afternoon… Tried to calm him down about Danny not returning any calls, assured him we’d check on him if he didn’t respond soon...” She turned to him, “So does that make you Gary Schofield?”

 

“Gaz but yeah.” He raked his fingers through his hair, “So what, you just decided to check in and that’s why you witnessed the bloody Rocky Horror Picture Show?”

 

“I figured Begbie would do something dramatic.” She shook her head incredulously, “Did I know the hitman was going to be there? Of course not, we didn’t even know he was in London.”

 

“Back?” Gaz echoed, “Hitman? What the  _ fuck _ is going on?”

 

“Your guess is as good as any of ours.” They were starting to head out of the heart of the city now, towards the suburbs, “We figure the organization is sending someone after all of you to either terminate the experiment or get rid of the evidence it occurred...both’s possible too I suppose.”

 

“A fucking  _ experiment _ ?!”

 

“Please, Gaz, we’ll get you up to speed with what little we know,” she assured him, casting him sympathetic glances when she could spare the attention from the road, “A lot is still speculation… And I think it’ll be better to sit down and talk it out rather than continuing to give you half answers as we speed away from a homicide.”

 

“Fine.” He turned around in his seat, staring back behind them. He didn’t know if that maniac had a car but damned if he wasn’t at least going to keep an eye out, “...but how the hell do you know Lacey? Is she part of this too?”

 

Belle sighed, “She’s not… But apparently she didn’t tell you about me.”

 

They drove on in silence and he watched the buildings climb up the income ladder. By the time Belle pulled into the driveway of a house, it was in the not-even-in-his-dreams price bracket. He followed her up the path to a porch worthy of lazy summer lounging, stepping into a foyer that automatically made him feel like he should be taking off his shoes and avoiding touching anything. 

 

“Nick?”

 

“We’re in here.” Belle’s voice echoed from nearby. It took all of his Year One manners not to push Belle aside and lead himself into the living room.

 

Lacey of all people was on the couch, legs crossed and arms spread over the back of it. Drink in hand she was watching a man standing next to a white board who, surprise surprise, looked like a scruffy older version of him. Lacey nearly spilled her drink as she got to her heels.

 

“Gaz!”

 

“It’s fine, I’m fine, this is…” He looked down at his clothes, thinking he should’ve made some attempt in the car to at least get his face cleaned up, “...not my blood.”

 

The new doppleganger hardly paid him any mind, going straight for Belle. They embraced, her hand cradling his head and his splayed across her upper back.

 

“Nick…”

 

He pulled away, snapping, “What the hell were you doing?!” 

 

“I was worried about Begbie pulling something...Begbie-esque, and he did. But he was right, it’s not Danny, Danny was the one who was killed by the train.” She gestured to Gaz, “This...is Gary Schofield. Gaz, this is my husband, Dr. Nicholas Rush.” 

 

The other man finally took notice of him, though didn’t seem particularly impressed, “...so you’re Gaz.”

 

“Aye.”

 

He contemplated him for a moment longer, “...glad I never went blonde.”

 

Belle shot him a warning look, before turning to the other woman, “Lacey, you didn’t tell him.” There was no accusation in her voice, just mild surprise.

 

The room quieted and Gaz felt more than saw Lacey tense, the grip on her glass tightening as her chin tilted up. She rolled her head as though she were working a kink out of her neck before turning to him.

 

“Yeah so, you know how I’ve told you as long as I’ve known you I don’t care about finding my bio family? Well...she found me.”

 

Gaz stared at Lacey, feeling like he was looking at a stranger instead of his best friend, “...and you didn’t tell me?”

 

“You were kind of busy pretending to be a nightclub owner… And I was embarrassed.”

 

“Embarrassed?”

 

“Yeah, look at her, Miss I’m-Fucking-A-Rocket-Scientist,” Lacey jerked her head towards her.

 

“Professor of quantum physics, but close enough,” Belle brushed it off, “And tell me you wouldn’t be curious if you learned you were adopted and, when you went to search for your parents, you found out you had a sister.”

 

“No, because I’ve never been curious about my parents! They gave me up so clearly they didn’t think much about me.” She finished her drink and plopped back down on the couch, “Anyway it didn’t matter until now, because of this Twilight Zone shite...”

 

“Of course it mattered,” Gaz muttered, taking a seat beside her, “ _ You _ matter to me, Lace… Always.”

 

“This is all very touching,” Nick drawled, “But unfortunately low on the agenda. You two can discuss lies of omission afterwards, but right now we need to patch together what happened at Devine’s joint and what we know so far about why we have all these familiar faces.”

 

“You’re going to want a drink,” Belle told Gaz, “What would you like?”

 

“Anything strong,” he said.

 

Lacey extended her glass and Belle stepped away, “I think you’ve had about enough.”

 

“I’ll let you know when I’ve had enough,” Lacey growled. Belle wasn’t dissuaded, touching Nick’s shoulder as she passed him by.

 

Nicholas sized up his audience as she went into the kitchen, playing with the cap on his marker, “...what do you know about cloning?”

 

Gaz was struck dumb by the question and Lacey shrugged, “They did it to a sheep in the mid-nineties. Everything else comes from sci-fi.”

 

“Aye, Dolly is the best known case of actual cloning, certainly not the last.” Nick’s eyes stayed on Gaz, trying to read him, “Us, for example… You, me, Devine, Begbie, MacAvoy, countless others. There’s a very good possibility that we’re all copies from one individual.”

 

“Bull shit,” Gaz spat, “If humans were being cloned we’d know about it. You can’t keep something like that a secret.”

 

“You’d be surprised,” Belle returned, offering him a glass of whiskey on the rocks, “I mean, Lacey and I are clones.”

 

“That’s different,” Lacey insisted, “I seriously doubt we grew in a test tube before being tossed.”

 

“You’re clones in the basic sense,” Nick defended, “Identical DNA, identical fingerprints… Natural cloning with one fertilized egg splitting in two. Given the age ranges between all of us,” he gestured between himself and Gaz, “...it’s very likely we’re of the...lab rat sort of cloning.”

 

Really it shouldn't be so much of a surprise; it wasn't a half bad explanation, and he didn't have any better theory. But still… 

 

“...we’re older than the sheep, though.”

 

“Doesn't mean someone wasn't playing mad scientist in the basement.” Rush muttered, crossing his arms, “Truth is none of us know who made us. It was coincidence MacAvoy and Devine even crossed paths.”

 

“Danny was a little...well, neurotic,” Belle explained, “He enjoyed his conspiracy theories, so seeing someone who looked almost exactly like him gave him all sorts of ideas. Nick wasn’t difficult to find, being a professor...and I think we found Begbie through Danny’s network… And you through your criminal background.”

 

It was the first time Gaz had seen the disgruntled academic smile, “Public indecency, eh?”

 

“Fuck off,” Gaz hissed.

 

“It was rehearsal that the police butted in on with no context,” Lacey insisted, “Anyway, so far there’s...five clones, two of which are dead.”

 

“That’s where the live headcount stands right now,” he agreed, “The death toll is...significantly higher.”

“Because of this...bloodhound hitman boogeymonster fellow?”

Gaz wasn’t reassured the way they shared a look before the older man answered.

 

“During our research we found some...unsettling news reports,” he said haltingly, “Family of four brutally murdered… Mother and kids shot, the father… They’ve only found bits and pieces of him.”

 

“Jesus Christ…” Gaz muttered. Lacey put her head in her hands.

 

“It’s a similar MO, but the victims are spread over countries,” Belle said, “Murdered loved ones, the majority of the body never found…”

“And when you went to look at their pictures they all looked like versions of the same guy,” Gaz finished. He shoved his hand into his pocket, pulling out Danny’s phone.

“What are you doing?” Nick barked.

“None of your fucking business!” He dialed the number without thinking, holding it to his ear.

It rang and rang and rang until he got the answering machine. He dialed again and it rang and rang and-

“Who is this?”

He had never been so grateful to hear that bastard Larry’s voice, “Nate and Mandy, they alright?”

“Gaz, is that you?”

“ARE NATE AND MANDY ALRIGHT?!”

There was some mild shuffling, “We’re all asleep…or at least Mandy and I were. You on something?”

“Go check on Nate, please! Make sure he’s in his bed!”

“Sleep it off, will ya?” The line went dead.

Gaz tossed the phone to the other side of the couch and jumped to his feet. Lacey was close behind.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” she insisted, grabbing for his arm.

He shook her off, “I need to be sure!”

She grabbed him by both shoulders, “Chill the fuck out.”

“It’s Nate, I’m not going to fucking chill until I know he’s alright!”

“Running over there in the middle of the night is going to make you look insane!”

 

“Your boy should be fine for now,” Rush said brusquely, “There’s a gap between his killings.”

 

“Yeah, well, that was before he saw two of us in the same place!”

 

He tried to push by Lacey but she stood her ground; those heels must give her some advantage, he thought briefly, digging in  for leverage or something.

 

“Tomorrow,” she promised, “You heard Dr. Scientist; nothing will happen tonight. And you’re still covered in blood, which won’t go over well with any of them.”

 

He looked between Lacey, Belle, and Dr. Rush and realized he wasn’t going fucking anywhere tonight. He eyed the older nerd version of himself.

 

“...you got anything I can change into, then?”

 

Their bathroom could’ve been a studio apartment with a tub and toilet, and the shower was…awkward. Set into a corner with two glass walls, he felt like he was giving a bit of a show to whoever felt like coming in. But god did it feel good to get clean; the hot water even pushed Nate out of his mind temporarily.

He should’ve expected how well the clothes would fit, but it was still eerie how it sagged in all the right places. As if they were only a few pounds between them.

Clones… Like he was in some kind of sci-fi movie, an experiment gone wrong. This was too fucking weird for him… Having a guy look exactly like him was bad enough, but there was a whole swarm of them, and a hitman to boot.

He had to convince Lacey that the best thing for them was to grab Nate and run. The scientist and his assistant wife could play the thriller game but Gaz didn’t want any part of it. He wasn’t the tiniest bit curious about any of this.

When he came back to the living room Lacey was the only one there, lying face-up on the couch and swirling the ice around in her glass idly. He leaned on the back of the couch, bending down to look at her.

“You alright?”

Her eyes moved from the ceiling to his face, “Pretty sure I’m still in shock.” She set the glass on the coffee table, propping herself up on her elbows, “…I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Belle. Honestly I just don’t like thinking about it, you know?”

“I know.”

“I mean look at this shit,” she waved her hand around, “It’s ridiculous… I’m sure they earned it but still.”

It was definitely a different lifestyle than they were used to.

“And where’d they go to?”

“I think they’re filling MacAvoy in on everything,” she eyed him, “…they’ve offered to let us stay what’s left of the night here.”

“You think I’m gonna sleep at all after that?”

“It’s a good drive back to Sheffield,” she sighed, “…and really, I don’t like the idea of just you and me against the clone serial killer. They seem like they’ve got a vague clue as to what’s going on, at least.”

 

That was pretty much the exact opposite of what he wanted… But if he wasn’t going to check on Nate, he might as well stay here.

 

“...sure,” he mumbled.

 

First thing tomorrow morning though, they were heading back.

 

III

 

The sleepy church on the outskirts of Middlesbrough was completely dark and silent, except for the quiet shuffle of feet across stone. Still dressed in his nightshift he moved towards the altar. He crossed himself and knelt before it, fumbling with the match before striking it and shakily lighting the candles.

 

“Our Father, Who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy Name…”

 

He’d been asleep when the call had come. He had jolted upright and fumbled for the disposable cell phone they had given him, answering before he was capable of more than a garbled noise in greeting.

 

“Thy Kingdom come; Thy Will be done…”

 

_ Begbie’s dead _ , Rush had announced, and he could hear sweet Belle in the background hissing at him.  _ It was quick,  _ he continued, ignoring her, _ bullet to the head, didn’t even know what hit him. _

 

As if THAT were supposed to somehow comfort the fact another one of them had fallen victim to the serial killer.

 

“...on earth as it is in heaven. Give us…”

 

__ _ We’ve got a new one, Gaz. He was pretending to be Danny; had no idea about any of this. Apparently if the hitman didn’t act first Begbie would’ve offed him. _

 

“...give us this day our, our daily bread… and forgive us our trespasses…”

 

__ _ He’s got a son, young-ish we think. You remember what it’s like at first; it’s all you can do just to wrap your head around it. _

 

“...as we...forgive those who trespass against us. And, and lead us not into temptation but...deliver us...deliver us from evil.”

 

__ _ Doesn’t help he got a firsthand look at what we’re dealing with. I think he’s getting out of the shower; Belle, love, you want to get the guest room ready? _

 

“For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are Yours now and forever.”

 

He looked up to the cross hanging behind the pulpit. Tears came to his eyes as the prayer remained open and as he thought about the last bottle he had on hand down in his quarters. It didn’t seem that long ago he had gone to a liquor store out of town, going to restock his “emergency supply”...and had literally run into Mr. Devine.

 

“...I’m so scared,” he whispered to it, shaking his head, “I know that everything is according to Your Plan...but I don’t want to die. I know there have been times I’ve thought about it, but I never  _ truly _ meant it...”

 

He had been on the road to sobriety before this had happened. Really he had just been looking for comfort of his own after having to give last rites to a long-time parishioner. But now… How could he be expected NOT to drink?

 

His lip quivered, as the question that had been bothering him since Dr. Rush had theorized that they were clones spilled out.

 

“...does Begbie even have a soul to pray for? ...do I?”

 

He stared at the cross but no divine miracle occurred; no angel descended with prophetic words. He didn’t even hear God’s voice inside of him the way he once had when he was called to ministry. 

 

Joseph was feeling the distinct difference between Mother Theresa’s insistence God would not give her more than she could handle...and Paul the Apostle saying God would not let them be  _ tempted _ more than they could bear. 

 

“...Lord, please protect me...and my brothers. Amen.”


End file.
